Of Two Minds on a Red

By

Dorothy J. Gaiter and

John Brecher

Updated June 13, 2009 12:01 a.m. ET

When we were picking up our daughter Zoë from college, John ran into a wine store and found an unusual looking wine, Ramian 2006 Grenache Rouge from Napa, in a clear bottle. Only 276 cases were produced. We had just recently completed a tasting of Grenache, so he picked it up, for $19.43. Those facts are about the only things we agree on about this wine.

It started with the clear, Bordeaux-shaped bottle, which we’re more accustomed to seeing with white or rosé wines. And then the label kept telling us it was rouge and red and that it “is much bigger than it appears to be.” Hmmm. Because it looked like a dark rosé, we chilled it. After a few thoughtful sips, John gave his verdict: The wine is suffering from an identity crisis. “I don’t like it because I think it lacks conviction,” he said. “It’s not red but it’s not really a rosé and it just doesn’t seem like it has any kind of focus. I can’t picture it with any food.” So there!

ENLARGE

Robert Michael Bruno

All of this was delivered with such passion that Dottie just watched, spellbound, from the window seat in our hotel room. What was he talking about, she wanted to know. “I like it,” Dottie said. “It has raspberries, ripe raspberries, and some earth, a hint of chocolate and a nice dollop of acidity, but mainly what I am getting is rich raspberry fruit. It tastes almost like a white because of the acidity. I am really enjoying it.” She added that she would have it with a steak or chicken or a Greek salad with feta and anchovies, certainly grilled vegetables, maybe pasta with tomato sauce and mussels. So there!

People ask all the time if we disagree about wines. Because we began drinking wine together when we were 21 and learned about wine together, we do have similar palates and taste memories, but, even so, one of the wonderful things about wine is that it’s highly personal. Just because one of us doesn’t like it doesn’t make that person wrong, although in this case our disagreement was so deep that we did give each other the once-over with squinted eyes, wondering if one of us had been “doubled,” in the parlance of “Alias.” So we called the winemaker, Brian Graham, and we could tell that he was used to explaining—in fact, a little weary from it all. He put it in a clear bottle, he told us, because “I like how clean and pretty the wine is.” He emphasized that it’s red, “just like Nebbiolo and Pinot Noir, because it’s a very pretty red wine.” People think of Grenache as a black wine because sometimes Syrah is added, he told us, “and color is deceiving a lot of the time. People think color equals quality.”

He has bottled his 100% Grenache Rouge in clear bottles for six vintages, but his next will go into light-green, Burgundy-shaped bottles. Why? “I’m tired,” he told us. “The people who get the wine, the people who buy it religiously,” all concur that his new bottling plan is the right way to go. “It’s marketing,” he said. There are two perceptions he has encountered with color. One is if it’s light, it’s inexpensive wine and, two, Americans think it’s sweet if it’s pale, the White Zin thing. “When we tell them that it’s bone dry, they say, ‘Now that’s interesting, let me try that,’ and they like it.” Mr. Graham said his wine truly is flexible: “You can chill it down to bone cold and drink it like a dark rosé or you can serve it room temperature with steak.” Like Dottie said.

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We’re going on a French Country Waterways barge tour and will visit wineries in central Burgundy. We’d like to know if there are any special protocols while in French wine country. We’ll of course be gracious, but also don’t want to make any terrible faux pas.

—Lee and Carol Vandenberg, Cuyahoga Falls, Ohio

Tasting rituals differ from country to country and region to region. In a place like Burgundy, for instance, you are more likely to actually be in the home or cellar of the owner-winemaker than in the U.S., which increasingly offers large, professionally staffed tasting rooms, sometimes far from the actual winery. In Germany, there is often a formal little room where tastings take place. But our advice is simple: Wherever you are, and whatever the tasting situation, be gracious, be polite, speak softly and, more than anything, be respectful. Remember that when you are tasting wine with the winemaker or owner, you are tasting that person’s art. Sure, they’d love to sell you some, but more than anything they want to know that you are appreciating their art. Even with language problems, a big smile after the first smell and a “yummm” after the first taste is important. Dottie has been known to smile and pat her tummy.

Can Zinfandel Rosé Be Good?

I enjoyed reading your article on American rosé wines. Why is Zinfandel, when it is made into a blush wine, never considered very good? Is it because some grapes just don’t have the right qualities for a rosé while others do?

—Tony Palmer, Durango, Colo.

Fine rosé is made from all sorts of dark-skinned grapes all over the world and there is no reason Zinfandel cannot be made into a good one. Many years ago, some California wineries made tasty, dry rosé of Zinfandel. In fact, when Sutter Home started making White Zinfandel, the wine was dry, but when the winery left it sweet, the wine flew out the door—and the rest is history. Although we have tasted good White Zinfandel (over many years, our favorite was DeLoach), the problem is that Zinfandel rosé is now synonymous with White Zin, which is synonymous, unfortunately, with sweet, simple and uninteresting. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

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